Invisible Man
by HalfDutch
Summary: After bringing Charlie back to the caves, Jack breaks down and is comforted by Sawyer, of all people.
1. Solace

_I wrote this a little while back because of a fic challenge from mariesg316 at LJ:_

_"After bringing Charlie back to the cave, Jack has a nervous breakdown and gets comfort from...Sawyer!" How could I not take that bait? Hope ya like it! Set after "Raised by Another."_

* * *

At the caves, everyone had stopped speculating about Charlie and Claire. They were all out of hope, all out of ideas. Sawyer stopped by for water, but didn't stay to chat. He didn't need to sit around with a group of depressed people who wouldn't give him the time of day normally. 

Fucked up circumstances or not, these people weren't his friends and he couldn't share in their sorrow. It's not like he could help anyway. All the search parties were out, all the heroes on the trail.

He just kept on being the invisible man. As he filled up his water bottles, he knew some of them were wishing he'd been the one to go missing. Might solve everyone's problems, Sawyer thought bitterly.

And then suddenly Jack and Kate were back. They were muddied, exhausted, and from the look on their faces, Sawyer could see it wasn't good news. But Charlie was with them and he was alive. Hurley rushed over to hug Charlie, but Jack warned him off.

Charlie looked shellshocked. They all did.

Sawyer decided it would be a good time to go. The place was getting downright communal and as much as he wanted to know what was going on, he had no business sticking around, pretending to be one of them.

He didn't head right back to the beach. Instead, he took a minute to have a smoke, breathing in the night air along with the nicotine. He thought of Claire, pictured her lying dead somewhere out in the jungle. It wasn't right, a sweet girl like that. He hadn't said but a few words to her, and yet she'd always been so nice to him, not judging him when he'd sheepishly produced those wallets he'd taken for her memorial service. She'd just said "Thanks," and smiled that sweet smile.

He felt sick inside. He couldn't help but think of his mother. She didn't look anything like her, but that's who Claire reminded him of, he admitted, allowing himself to work that most painful of spots in his memory.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Sawyer was surprised to hear someone yelling.

He walked to where the outburst had come from. It was Jack, who was punching a tree with his bare fists.

Sawyer stood back, not sure if he should just leave. It was too dark to tell, but Jack was tearing up his knuckles for sure.

Jack's shoulders heaved as he began to cry, in big choking sobs.

Sawyer turned to walk away and leave Jack to cry in peace, but then Jack began butting his head against the tree. He was going to knock himself out, Sawyer thought. "Shit," he said out loud and tossed his cigarette away.

"Hey, doc," he said, rushing over to Jack's side. "Cut that out. You want to give yourself a concussion?"

Jack didn't look up, just kept beating his head against the tree. His forehead was bleeding and so were his hands, but he didn't seem to notice. Sawyer grabbed him by the shoulders and forcefully pulled him away from the tree. "Jack! Hey, get a hold of yourself."

Jack looked at him in confusion. "Sawyer?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah, it's me, your bosom buddy Sawyer," he said, raising one eyebrow. "You're a mess, doc. Come on, you've done enough damage to the tree for one night."

"Claire," Jack managed to say brokenly, before breaking into sobs again. Sawyer maneuvered Jack onto the ground and sat down beside him.

"Yeah, I know, pal," he said, patting him on the back. "She didn't deserve this. You tried your best."

Jack nodded, unable to stop the huge sobs that wracked his body. Sawyer awkwardly kept a supportive hand on his shoulder. "Shit," he swore to himself. He was the worst person in the world at this. Where the hell was Kate? She could help the doctor out, hold him, rock him like a baby, maybe something more. Sawyer wasn't going to do any of that.

Slowly, Jack managed to choke out the story of how they had found Charlie and brought him back against all odds.

"Hey, you saved him, doc," Sawyer said, still feeling foolish about this reassurance thing. "That's a good thing. Hell, it's a fucking miracle. What are you beating yourself up for?"

"I'm such a fraud," Jack said, his crying almost stopped now. "It wasn't me. He just came back on his own. I'm a terrible doctor. I've let so many people die, you have no idea." Jack's face was broken, haunted, a look Sawyer had never seen before.

"What are you talking about?" Sawyer said with a hint of his usual sneer. "You've been saving people left and right since you got here. Hell, you saved my sorry ass even though I flat out told you not to. If that makes you a terrible doctor, well, then I'm Mother Fucking Theresa."

Jack smiled a little at Sawyer's words. "Yeah, well say hi to the orphans in Calcutta for me, won't you?"

Sawyer chuckled. "Hey, the doc has a sense of humor. Who knew?"

Jack's smile faded and he looked down at the ground. "It was just luck we found Charlie. Just luck we got him back. If I hadn't scared Claire off, none of this would have happened."

"Yeah, and you probably caused the plane crash too, right?" Sawyer said heatedly. "Get over yourself, doc. I know you try to be the big hero and everything, but last time I checked you weren't responsible for boar attacks or fucking polar bears or killers on the loose or any other damn thing on the island. You're doing a good job. Now just calm the hell down. You're the only doctor we got and we can't afford to have you go loco on us."

Jack nodded, seriously taking in Sawyer's words. "You're right. You're right. I just ..." he began and then stopped, taking a deep breath. "I just feel like I have to keep it together all the time. But I'm really just panicking. Every minute. Every minute I have no idea what I'm doing and people are depending on me and that scares the hell out of me."

"Well, you put on a good show, doc," Sawyer said after a pause. "Because I never had a clue. Anyone ever tell you you're too hard on yourself? Man, I thought I ..." but he left the sentence unfinished.

"You won't tell Kate or anyone, will you?" Jack said. He was calm again, but his face was still drawn in sorrow.

"Tell her what? About your little freakout? Nah," Sawyer said.

"What am I going to say about this?" Jack said, holding out his bloodied hands.

"Hell, tell her I roughed you up if you want," Sawyer offered with a sardonic grin.

"Why do you do that?" Jack asked, genuinely puzzled. "Why do you want everyone to think the worst of you?"

"That is a long and boring tale," Sawyer said, getting up. "And best left for another pow wow. So maybe you can get the fair Kate to tend to those hands. She might even kiss you."

"You just can't help being a jerk, can you, Sawyer?" Jack sighed. "Never mind," he said, waving his hand as if to recall his statement. "Hey, I, uh, thanks," he said awkwardly.

Sawyer shrugged. "Don't mention it. Really. Just don't go tenderizing your head the next time something goes wrong, OK?"

"OK," Jack said, holding out his hand for Sawyer to shake.

Sawyer took it gingerly. "You need some Bactine, just come ask me. On the house."

Jack smiled. "See you, Sawyer."

"See you, Jack. Stay away from the tree, OK?"


	2. Whiskey and Water

_Thanks for all the reviewers of the first chapter who wanted a follow-up! Here it is! I originally wrote this as two separate stories over at LJ, but it probably works better as one story. Just having fun being silly here. And the ending is up to you and your own dirty mind. ;-) _

Sawyer awkwardly rewrapped the bandage around his arm, cursing at his own inefficiency. You'd think that after so many days he'd have gotten the hang of this, but ever since Jack had refused to help him with it, he'd been forced to do it on his own. He could have asked someone else for help, but that wasn't Sawyer's way. Being in someone's debt was not something that sat well with him. With most of his fingers still bandaged, he felt like he was all thumbs.

"Need some help with that?"

Sawyer looked up to see Jack tapping on the metal brace of the tent. "Good timing, huh?" said Jack, smiling.

"Uh, sure," Sawyer said, waving him inside.

"Brought your meds," Jack said, holding up the bottle of antibiotics Sawyer had been taking since getting stabbed. "And I came for some of that Bactine. My hands are killing me."

He held out his hands for Sawyer to see. The knuckles were still bloody and raw and Sawyer winced to see them. "Ouch, doc. Looks like your prizefighting days are over."

Another rare smile lit up Jack's face. The little lines around his eyes that crinkled up were proof that smiling wasn't completely new to him.

"Let me do that," Jack said, taking the bandage from Sawyer. "It's healing well," he said, looking at the knife wound. "Does it give you any trouble?"

"None to speak of," Sawyer said, not mentioning the occasional twinges of pain it gave him or the worrying numbness from a few days ago.

"Really?" Jack said, expertly winding the bandage around Sawyer's arm. "Because we still have some painkillers if you need them."

"That's a mighty generous offer," Sawyer said. "But I got my own brand of painkiller here." He indicated a large bottle of Jack Daniel's sitting nearby.

Jack looked at him askance. He wasn't serious, was he?

Sawyer's bandage taken care of, he got up to search for the Bactine he had promised the doctor. After a few minutes' digging around, he came up with the disinfectant spray. "Here you go, doc," he said, tossing it to Jack.

Jack sprayed it on his hands in turn and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, man, that's great. It's got this numbing effect. Oh, I needed that."

"So did you explain how you came to resemble a mile of rough road?" Sawyer asked.

"I didn't," Jack said. "Well, Kate asked, but I told her I didn't want to talk about it."

"Your secret dies with me," Sawyer said, flashing his familiar grin. "That tree, though ... I wouldn't trust it. It looked kind of unreliable to me."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack said, rolling his eyes with an amused grin. "Rub it in, thanks."

His smile evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. Somehow, out here on the beach, he was able to feel lighthearted, if just for a moment. At the caves, everyone was still sunk in depression over Claire's disappearance. Sawyer's tent was a little oasis from island reality. Somehow, here he didn't feel the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And thinking these thoughts caused his worries to come crashing back down around him. Jack sighed. "I'd better be getting back. It's getting dark."

"Yeah, sure, doc," Sawyer said, noting Jack's fallen countenance. "But you know, now that you mention it, my arm is giving me some trouble."

"It is?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," Sawyer said. "It gets real twingy-like. I think it's time for a dose of medicine." He grabbed the bottle of whiskey. "Want to join me?" he asked, lying back in his airplane seat.

"Sawyer, you shouldn't be drinking when you're on antibiotics," Jack said, sounding for all the world like he was wearing a crisp white coat and a stethoscope around his neck.

"Should... not really in my vocabulary, doc," Sawyer said. He took a swig from the bottle. "It'll put hair on your chest."

Jack smiled. "Yeah, I'm pretty well covered on that front." But he took the bottle. He held it a for a second as if weighing it and then tipped it up and took a big swallow. "Wow," he said, shaking his head as the alcohol hit his throat. He handed the bottle back to Sawyer.

"Atta boy," Sawyer said, smiling, taking another swig. He let out a satisfied sigh. "You know what would go great with this?"

"Ice?" Jack offered, sitting down. Sawyer passed him the bottle without asking and Jack took another hit and handed it back.

"Yeah, I could go for some ice," Sawyer said, closing his eyes, savoring the memory. "Just to hear it hit the glass... which we don't have either," he said, holding the bottle up as if to illustrate the absence of glassware.

"Thai food. And Singha beer" Jack said, reaching for the bottle. "I think that's what I miss the most."

"A Big Mac. With about a million french fries," Sawyer said longingly. "And pizza. Oh man. Fried chicken. Tacos! Coca Cola," he sighed, drawing out the words as if he were actually tasting them.

"Lasagne," Jack countered. "Red wine. Really crusty sourdough bread, fresh from the oven. With butter."

"Oh man, you're killing me," said Sawyer. "I would die happy if I could just get some pancakes - hell, nothing fancy, it could be from a mix even."

"Whipped cream or syrup?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sawyer let out a small groan. "You ... are ... a sadist!" He flopped over, rolling onto the ground in a mock death swoon. "You are going to give me a heart attack. OK. Both! With strawberries. And cherries."

"Oh, that's not fair," Jack replied. "Strawberries! That's just cruel."

Sawyer shrugged, taking another swig. "Now should we talk about what we're really missin'?"

"You mean women?" Jack said, a sarcastic smile playing across his face. "Why, is there a stripper somewhere starving without your business?"

"C'mon, is that nice, doc?" Sawyer asked, pretended to be insulted. "I think Peaches is coping just fine without me."

The two men collapsed with laughter. Jack was laughing so hard he started crying.

"No, man, I miss my bike," Sawyer said. "I could just get on my Harley and be in the next town. And I miss music. I would give anything to be in a bar right now, playing some Stones or Zeppelin on the jukebox, shooting pool. There was this one hot little bartender who always wore these short leather skirts and real low-cut shirts..." he sighed.

"I miss my car," Jack said, nodding. "I miss driving. Hell, I miss everything." He grew quiet and melancholic again. "Everyone probably thinks we're dead. My mom ... by now she knows my father's dead too. I was bringing his body back on the plane."

"Hey, that's ... tough," Sawyer said awkwardly.

"How about you? You have anyone back home. Like Peaches?" Jack asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh, I got a million Peaches," Sawyer said, grinning wickedly. "But nah, no one's missing me." He took another swallow from the bottle.

"What's going on?" Kate stood outside the tent, looking at them quizzically. They both looked up at her and then at each other and burst out laughing.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Jack and Sawyer were both obviously drunk and were acting very chummy, practically leaning against each other. They looked very much in sync, down to the scrapes and bruises on their faces. Tears of laughter came to Jack's eyes as he saw her expression of complete surprise.

"Hey, Freckles," Sawyer shouted to her, rather unnecessarily. "You wanna join us?"

"It's a party," Jack said, breaking into giggles.

Kate rolled her eyes, but then she started laughing too. Sawyer looked happy and relaxed. It was good to see Jack happy too, even if he seemed likely to choke with laughter. And neither man had ever looked more handsome. If she had come across either one of them alone like this, she knew what her next move would be. Or at least what she'd want to do. She hesitated and then sat down next to them.

Sawyer handed her the bottle. "Catch up, sweetheart," he said with a leer that still managed to be charming. "We're going skinny dipping next."

"We are?" Jack said, as excited as a five year old. "Yeah! We should!" He jumped up and took his shirt off.

Kate took a swig from the bottle. "You're on," she said.


End file.
